


Born Free

by goldarrow



Series: Slave!verse [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Slave society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:08:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldarrow/pseuds/goldarrow
Summary: Lester owns a high-class whorehouse in a world where the descendents of criminals are enslaved as part of the punishment for their parents’ crimes.“The sins of the fathers are visited upon the children.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: **AU Slave!Fic**, therefore implied dub!con, but actually quite enthusiastically embraced  
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me. I will return them when I’m done, slightly mussed but in superb spirits.  
Lyle, Blade, Ditzy, and Finn all belong to fredbassett, who kindly lends them out.  
The rest of the OCs are mine.
> 
> Chapter 7 is a diagram of the A-R-C.

“The quarterly approval reports you requested, sir.” 

Sir James Lester looked up, his attention pulled away from the not-quite-fascinating minutes of the latest meeting of the Agency for the Regulation of the Indentured, known more commonly as the ARI. He might not totally agree with all of the regulations that resulted from the laws that required enslavement of the nearest related infant when citizens were convicted of crimes, but as a charter member of the ARI, third generation, it was his responsibility to remain current on all regulatory changes and updates.

Setting aside the minutes, he reached with relief for the approval reports his assistant was holding out. “Thank you, Finn. Would you bring me a sandwich from the canteen, please?”

“Um, it’s tuna today, sir.” The young man grinned when Lester made a rather disapproving face. “I can order in from the deli on the corner, if you’d like.”

“That would be most kind. Take it from petty cash.” Lester spoke absently, as he was already concentrating on the latest ratings for his whores and guards.

Frowning, Lester flipped through to the quarter’s ratings of the security personnel. For the second quarter in a row, the employee satisfaction and emergency drill efficiency ratings were down. Not by much, but by enough to make him pleased that he was hiring a new Head of Security. With the reports all over the news lately about a gang of Indentured Rights yobbos smashing up the city Sex Houses and stealing their treatment records, his team needed to be at top efficiency. He shuddered at the thought of the gang getting hold of the psychological counselling records of his clientele. Between Cabinet ministers and minor (and in some cases, not so minor) members of the Royal family, he would be in deep trouble if those records went astray.

He glanced at his watch. The prospect, a retired Major Tom Ryan, should be arriving for his final interview in about half an hour. That would give Lester enough time to finish the sandwich that Finn had just placed beside him along with the cup of Earl Grey tea.

When he got to the whores’ ratings, he relaxed again, almost smiling. The customer satisfaction ratings were high, the profit margins were well within projections, and Stephen Hart was again running ahead of everyone else on both satisfaction and profitability. Most of the other whores were doing well, although Olivia in Corridor C was getting an occasional complaint about being a bit pompous in her psychological counselling. That would never do. He typed a note into the company email for Finn to check with Elise, the lead whore in her section, about possible problems with her. 

He had just taken the last sip of his tea when Finn knocked and stuck his head around the door. “Major Ryan is here, sir.”

“Good. Show him in, please.” Lester stood and walked around his desk to greet the man who entered. His military background was plain in the way Tom Ryan held himself and moved, the way he gave a quick glance around the room, noting everything, before holding his hand out to Lester. 

“Sir James.” 

“Major Ryan. Or Mr. Ryan? I believe your application had the civilian term as your preferred appellation.” Lester waved him to one of the comfortable chairs beside his desk and returned to his own seat.

“Mr. Ryan, or just Ryan,” the security man said. “I spent my full 20 years in the military, but now that I’m civilian, I think it’s time to leave the rank behind.”

Lester smiled crookedly. As an officer, Ryan may have been Free military, but he definitely still had the military mindset: direct and to the point. Based on his CV and the information Lester had in hand from the placement company detailing the preliminary interviews they had already conducted on his behalf, Ryan must have had businesses lining up for his services. So why here? After discussing the few items left for him to handle, Lester asked him that final question.

Ryan smiled. “Three reasons. Your offered salary is in my desired range, I know security extremely well, and I’ll be heading up a department, with what your assistant said would be a fairly free hand.” He shrugged. “Most places gave me the impression that they wanted someone who would just follow standard orders and already established procedures. You actually want someone who can improve procedures if necessary. I like that.”

Eyebrow raised, Lester digested the answer. He approved of the man’s honesty. It was much easier to work with someone who didn’t play games. Lester had enough of that with the ARI and his business rivals. “Excellent. Do you have any more questions for me?”

Ryan nodded. “One. Why do you want more security right now?”

Lester smiled. That was an excellent question. “We hold the equivalent of medical records in the building, so our security needs were already fairly high. In addition, I’m becoming concerned about the current political climate regarding the Indentured. When Whores branched out from their historically restricted roles of sex education and therapy to full mental therapy a few decades ago, the maggots started crawling out of their holes to protest. In the last couple of years, they’ve actually become quite irritating.” He sighed. “The haters of ‘whoredom’ and homosexuality seem to have joined forces with the more general haters of Indentured servitude, which has made it rather difficult to effectively counter their protests.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “I see. So which of the three: whores, client/patients, or records is the most important for security department purposes?”

Lester was pleased at the thoughtfulness. “People first, both my whores and my clients. But dissemination of the information contained in the records could also cause great distress to clients, so they do have their own importance, just not quite as high as direct human welfare.”

Ryan nodded, looking pleased at the response. “Thank you, Sir James. I like everything I’ve heard, both from others outside, and from you in this meeting.”

Lester made his final decision, nodded, and stood. “I think you will enjoy working here, Ryan. Welcome.”

Ryan stood also and held out his hand. They shook solemnly. Contract made and sealed. 

“I’ll have Finn fill out your paperwork; you can look it over tomorrow. In the meantime, let me show you around,” Lester said as he waved Ryan through the door ahead of him. Lester normally left orientation to Finn, but he wanted to see first hand Ryan’s reactions to the security and Indentured control setup at A-R-C.

They walked slowly into the main waiting area, with Ryan again noting everything he saw. He asked, “I saw the name A-R-C outside, but everyone I’ve talked to just calls it The Sex House. Why is that?”

Lester chuckled. “When my father started the business 30 years ago, the names of all the whorehouses in the city were rather pretentious. A-R-C stands for Advice-Relations-Copulation.”

“Uh, right,” Ryan said slowly, his face showing a controlled reaction of mixed amusement and scorn, with a slight overlay of repugnance.

Lester raised an eyebrow. “I agree. The name was ridiculous. And though it is still A-R-C on all official correspondence, when I took over in the old building next door 15 years ago I simply let it be known that it was the best Sex House in the city. We have been extremely fortunate, since then expanding to this new House and becoming well known under the less pompous name; a name which has the advantage of being an advertisement in itself. I kept the old A-R-C designation for legal and hereditary purposes. So, to continue, we’re open 24 hours a day. All whores are Indentured, since there tended to be friction between the Indentured and the free in my father’s time. I find it works better to keep to one type.”

Ryan nodded, eyes moving constantly. “So, with all being Indentured, what’s your turnover rate?”

Lester smiled. “Lower than normal. Most of my whores retire around age 28.”

“Isn’t statistical retirement 25?” Ryan asked, eyebrows flying.

“Indeed.” Lester’s smile degenerated into a positive smirk. “And that’s one of the reasons I’m not really popular with the other House owners. My people last.” 

“What’s your age range right now?”

“My youngest is 19; I purchased her last year on her 18th. I always buy freshly graduated, preferring to break them in myself. It usually takes about two years to fully recoup their purchase price and their estimated working-life expenses since I buy the best, and after that they give pure profit for at least eight years.”

Ryan nodded, his almost shocked surprise obvious to Lester, who grinned slightly. 

Most Houses had their own particular style. Lester’s House was extremely exclusive, and his whores were considered to be the best at both sex and psychological counselling so their prices were commensurate with their talents. But even for the best, two years was very quick for a profit turn-around that included all estimated future maintenance expenses, and it was a definite point of pride for the owner.

Lester continued, “Most are around 22 to 24 years of age, but my oldest will be 31 next month.”

“Jesus, that’s almost unheard of!” Ryan stopped completely, and stared at him. “You’ve owned her for 13 years?”

“Him. I’ve owned him for 13 years. He was my first purchase, two years after I inherited the House, and he earned back his purchase price, an extremely high one at that, in only a little over a year.” He gave a sideways grin. “He’s still my most popular whore, and I’m actually quite proud of him.”

Leaving the subject, Lester led Ryan toward the security room. Once they arrived, he gestured at the apparatus. “Here’s the hub of the security equipment. I want you to study this setup thoroughly, and make any suggestions you think would make the place more secure.” He raised an eyebrow. “But please don’t go overboard, my good man. I really would prefer not to be asked to invest in tanks or riot gear.”

Ryan chuckled as he cast a jaundiced eye over the very-outdated security cameras. “No, but you definitely need an upgrade. These things were obsolete when punch-cards came out.”

“Exactly my point,” Lester responded drily, pleased that the new man was capable of handling sarcasm without becoming defensive. 

They exited the room and headed back along the corridor the way they came, past the waiting area, through a closed door and down a wide private corridor. Lester waved at an open door on the right. “Canteen. Open all day and night, with meals for personnel and snacks for clients delivered. Down here on the end is the gym and swimming pool.” 

Lester’s lips quirked in amusement as Ryan’s eyebrows headed for his hairline at speed. “Did I hear you say ‘swimming pool’?” the ex-soldier asked.

“Indeed. Swimming is one of the best exercises to promote long, slender muscles. My whores make frequent use of the pool, along with the other equipment provided, free weights, rowing machines, treadmills, etc.” Striding into the gym, Lester looked around. There was only one whore working out at the moment, swimming laps in the pool. “In this business, the whores must be in excellent condition with no slack skin or soft muscle, and clean of any scars or blemishes. The whores know that, and do their best to stay in good physical shape. They have no excuse not to, since I provide every possible opportunity for them to remain active.”

“Understood.” Ryan stopped, expression intent as he observed the long body cleaving the water cleanly. 

“And the security personnel are also free to use these facilities whenever they’re not on duty,” Lester added, watching with concealed enjoyment as the ex-soldier watched the swimmer.

“Good.” Ryan’s voice was just the slightest bit absent as the swimmer reached the end of the pool and pulled himself out of the water.

Having already recognised him, Lester grinned to himself at Ryan’s reaction to seeing Stephen Hart for the first time. There were many reasons Hart was Lester’s most popular whore, and his looks and carriage were at the top of the list. 

Hart saw them and smiled, snagging a towel to dry himself cursorily as he walked across the room toward them. Even at his age, he still moved with the slightly coltish grace of early maturity, the slave-collar tattooed in gold and silver on his neck seeming more like a piece of jewellery than a mark of ownership. And when he scrubbed his hair almost dry, leaving it standing in spikes, Lester saw Ryan swallow hard. 

The A-R-C owner smothered another grin. So the new Head of Security was gay. . . and rather obviously susceptible to slender height, cut-glass cheekbones and cobalt eyes fringed with impossible eyelashes. And it clearly wasn’t helping the man’s composure that Hart was wearing nothing but the tiniest of Speedos, his genitals clearly outlined through the thin material.

Hart stopped in front of them with a merry grin on his lips. “Master,” he said to Lester, with a slight though respectful nod. Then he turned to the newcomer. “You’re Mr. Ryan, right?” he asked. When Ryan nodded jerkily, he held out his hand. “Stephen Hart, pleased to meet you.”

Ryan shook himself out of what looked to be a lust-induced coma, making Lester rub his lips to suppress a full-blown chuckle, and returned the handshake. “And you. You knew I was coming today?”

“Yes, of course. Everyone knows.” Hart looked around. “In fact, I’m surprised there aren’t more of us here waiting to get a look at you.” He grinned again, and ran his hand through his hair.

When Ryan couldn’t come up with anything more than, “Oh,” Lester took pity on him. Stephen Hart in full-on seduction mode was impossible to resist.

“Stephen, behave,” Lester said severely, which didn’t dent the insouciance of his top whore in the slightest. 

Stephen chuckled and bit his lower lip just for a second, leaving a red mark that drew Ryan's gaze like a magnet, then he wrapped the towel around his neck and sauntered to the door. Turning at the exit, he waved to Ryan. “See you around.” And with a flip of a raven eyebrow, he strolled out of the room.

Ryan was left standing with a gob-smacked expression on his face, and Lester had to laugh. “Now you know why Hart is still my top earner,” he managed to say through the chuckles.

“Fucking hell,” Ryan responded with a shake of his head, then seemed to gather himself. “Sorry, Sir James.”

“No need,” Lester replied. “He’s a minx. And a brat. But he’s very, very good at his job. And, Ryan, just to let you know, if you’re ever forced into a situation where you have to choose between whores to save, you save him.”

That brought Ryan right back to earth with a thump if the sudden widening of his eyes was any indication. Lester was pleased to see him recover quickly as he nodded, all business again. “Got it.”

They walked across the room past the end of the pool, through the other door and down the dim back passages and along the BDSM corridor to finally end up at the Security room again.

“So, Ryan, what do you think?” Lester crossed his arms and waited, interested in hearing what the ex-soldier would have to say on the fly.

“Not many places to hide, but a great number of blind corners,” Ryan replied evenly. “The emergency doors at the back of the building are vulnerable - their locking systems are as badly out of date as the security room video. The security cameras themselves leave a lot of space uncovered, and since I haven’t seen even one member of security since I arrived, I have to assume they’re not particularly pro-active or curious. Oh, and not having seen any of the whores’ rooms themselves, I can’t comment on their security.”

“At this time of day, one of the guards will be on break, and the other,” he gestured, “somewhere around. For physical security there are biometric locks on the whores’ and records room doors, and only current A-R-C personnel are in the database. Cameras in the rooms, but no sound, fifteen minute visual recording with no permanent archive,” Lester said. “The assumption is that if a recording is needed, we’ll know in time to save it manually. That balances the safety of the whores with the privacy of the clients.” He smiled. “Our clients aren’t ashamed of their patronage, and they know the footage will never be used for any voyeuristic purposes. If that ever happened, we’d be out of business in a second.”

“Okay, I’ll make a note to check the angles on them.”

“Excellent. Now, I want you to turn in a report regarding any issues with the security setup and the personnel by the end of your second full day. That will be enough time to refine your ideas, yes?”

Ryan nodded. “Yes. What time would you like me to arrive tomorrow?”

“Around 3pm, if you would be so good,” Lester said. “That should give you long enough to sign all the paperwork, talk to the day and evening security personnel at shift changeover, and also a few minutes to verify the camera and watch-route setups.”

“That’ll work. I’ll hold off on meeting the teams until then. No reason to have them get the wind up right now; accosting them on break will only make them defensive.”

“Very well. Until tomorrow, then, Ryan.”

“Sir.” 

The ex-soldier left, still watchful, and Lester nodded to himself. This would work out very well. The man was respectful, knowledgeable, and efficient. And his rather entertaining reaction to Stephen Hart made him seem quite human, as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester remembers his first enjoyment of Stephen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is a hard-18-rated chapter.**

After Ryan left, Lester returned to his office and leaned back in his chair, remembering the day, almost 13 years ago, when Stephen Hart, just turned 18, first came to his House. 

Lester had been 34 himself at the time, and had been handed the business only two years before by his father, who wanted to retire and travel. Stephen Hart was his first purchase, and he’d bid high for the young graduate against his accountant’s advice; but something about the lad and his record at the school told Lester that this one was a winner. 

~*~*~

Stephen had been almost preternaturally beautiful with his newly tattooed slave collar shining gold and silver against his lightly tanned skin, the embedded tracking and punishment microchips so perfectly a part of the design that they couldn’t even be seen.

“Is he ready?” Lester asked the lead whore. 

Benjamin bobbed his head. “Yes, master. He cleans himself efficiently, and he knows well how to prepare. I have shown him where the condoms are kept.”

“Good.” Lester nodded, and Benjamin opened the door for him to enter his new acquisition’s room. Sauntering in, Lester looked over the young man who was standing beside the bed. Stephen had lived his entire life since his first birthday in the National Indentured Complex, and his mingled trepidation and excitement at his new situation showed in his slightly wide eyes and rapid breaths, and his already half-hard cock. 

Lester raised an eyebrow, pleased. “You know what’s going to happen tonight?”

Stephen swallowed, smiling shyly. “Yes, master.”

“You’ve never been taken before?”

“No, master. I received training on relaxation techniques but have never been penetrated by a man.”

“Excellent.” Lester was rather looking forward to this. Another perk of buying straight from training was the opportunity to be the whore’s first human penetration. There was a great feeling of power in performing that action. “Prepare me. No condom.”

Stephen took a deep breath and moved forward smoothly. Taking his time, brushing skin lightly with his fingertips whenever he had the opportunity, he removed Lester’s shoes, then his clothing piece by piece, hanging the suit and shirt on the rack beside the bed, folding the briefs and socks and placing them on the shelf underneath. He returned to Lester, knelt in front of him, and stroked his fingers down Lester’s stomach to circle the hard cock jutting from his groin. Lester made an approving noise in his throat, and Stephen leaned forward to lick slowly from underneath the base to the tip, where he tongued all around the rim and took the head into his mouth and sucked, just once. He then released it and sat back onto his heels, head bowed.

Lester nodded in approval. That had been quite good. No hesitation, no fumbling, and the lad even seemed to enjoy the little taste. “On the bed.”

Stephen rose gracefully to his feet and backed the few steps to the bed. He turned and folded the duvet down, then crawled to the centre of the mattress, giving Lester a clear view of his tight arse. He stayed in that position, waiting. 

From this angle, Lester could see the first clear drop of pre-come beading at the swollen tip of Stephen’s now fully erect cock. He walked forward and fondled Stephen’s arse cheek. The young man gasped and shivered, then stilled. Lester started running his fingers up and down Stephen’s crack, checking the lubrication and relaxation state of the hole, until a tiny whimper pulled him from his thoughts. Stephen was breathing hard, and obviously holding himself still with the greatest of effort. Taking pity on him, Lester came to a decision.

“On your back.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Stephen obeyed, rolling onto his back and in a smooth movement pulling one pillow to rest under his head and the other under his arse. Lester was pleased to see there was only the smallest hint of nervousness in his expression. His eyes were wide with excited anticipation, the pupils dilated so far that there was only the tiniest rim of cerulean showing. He was holding his hands quietly by his sides with palpable effort, and his hard, leaking cock was framed perfectly by his wide-spread legs.

Lester nodded approval. Excellent presentation. Now for the moment of truth. He stepped between Stephen’s legs and knelt on the bed. Leaning forward with his weight on one hand, he used the other to press the head of his cock to Stephen’s well-lubed hole, which twitched at the pressure before softening just a little as Stephen breathed out slowly, eyes fixed on his face. Lester looked up and met Stephen’s gaze with a slight smile as he pushed in slowly but steadily. 

Stephen’s eyes started to drift closed as the cock opened him, stretching the puckered hole. He moaned softly, and Lester could feel him fighting the urge to tighten. Not slowing, Lester continued the penetration until his balls pressed against Stephen’s arse, causing the young man to open his eyes in surprise.

With a quick approving nod, Lester started moving, rocking slowly inside Stephen’s channel, allowing him to adjust to the feeling before pulling out more each moment, pushing harder back in, finally fully fucking, each thrust burying his cock to the base, each withdrawal pulling out until only the head of his cock was still inside. 

By this time, Stephen had his eyes closed and was moaning with every breath, his hips rocking slightly in time with Lester’s rhythm. Lester grinned as he changed angle just a fraction on each thrust, until Stephen jumped like he’d been shocked and gave a sharp cry. Lester then aimed at that spot on every thrust and watched until Stephen was completely broken, gasping and moaning constantly, writhing on the bed, clearly fighting the need to touch himself, to touch Lester, to. Come. Right. Now. His cock was iron hard and trickling a steady stream of pre-come onto his belly, his eyes were open again and fixed on Lester’s, his expression pleading.

Pleased with his control, Lester said softy, “You may come,” and Stephen convulsed, crying out as his arse tightened around Lester and his cock shot come all over his chest and stomach. The spasms of the hole squeezing him pulled Lester into his own climax, and he filled Stephen’s channel with warmth.

Lester stayed still for a moment, catching his breath and gathering strength, then pulled slowly out of Stephen’s twitching arsehole. A quick check showed no blood, and he nodded in satisfaction. Standing up, he raised an eyebrow at Stephen, who was sprawled bonelessly on the mattress, staring at the ceiling with a vacant expression, breathing in great sobbing breaths.

Lester smirked. “Well?” he asked.

“Holy fucking shit!” Stephen replied blankly, then gasped and clapped his hand over his mouth, staring at Lester with trepidation. He started to scramble off the bed, and Lester stopped him with a chuckle.

“I’ll take that as approval, shall I,” he said, not making it a question.

Stephen grinned shamefacedly. “Yes, master,” he said softly, face lowered but eyes peering through thick lashes at Lester.

Lester raised an eyebrow, and Stephen suddenly seemed to remember his training. Crawling off the bed, he retrieved the warm flannel from the cubby under the bedside table and cleaned Lester, then helped him dress. When he was finished, he stood beside the bed, head bowed.

Lester walked up to him and tilted his head up. Looking into the young man’s eyes, Lester leaned forward and kissed him thoroughly. After a moment of absolute stillness, Stephen had responded with enthusiasm, and when Lester pulled back, he was grinning proudly. A kiss from the master was a sign of total approbation. 

Lester nodded, adding official words. “Well done.”

Eyes bright, Stephen said, “Thank you, master.”

With a raised eyebrow, Lester smirked a little. “Prepare yourself. It’s time to break you in.”

At Stephen’s sudden look of apprehension, Lester continued. “The lead member of each shift’s security team is due their annual reward. Each person is allowed one hour with you. There are two men and one woman. Condoms are mandatory, for both sexes.”

Stephen’s expression transformed from nervousness to hunger, and Lester raised his hand. “They are under strict orders to do you no injury. If anyone is too rough, you have my order right now to stop the sex immediately, and report to Benjamin, who will be waiting outside the door. I will have the order written down for him to hold.” He paused, and when Stephen nodded his understanding, Lester continued. “You have permission to climax as many times as you need to, whenever you need to. But, as always, with the woman you will do your best to hold off until she has come. If you do come first, you will make sure she comes as soon as possible, by whatever means are required.”

Stephen blinked, seemingly stuck on the permission issue. “I don’t need permission, master?” he asked hesitantly.

“Not any more. You are taught that in school so you learn control,” Lester replied. He smiled crookedly. “Only special clients are given the right to take you without a condom, or order your climaxes, and you will be told in advance when you will be required to conform. I don’t want you rupturing anything.”

Clearly emboldened by Lester’s expression, Stephen snickered. “Yes, master.”

“Notify Benjamin when you’re ready,” Lester said. As he left, he saw Stephen pick up the flannel and strip the bedclothes to the next layer for freshness before heading for the bathroom to clean himself.

“Call the off-duty team-leaders and give them their assigned times,” Lester told Benjamin. “Send Tomkins first, in about five minutes. Listen for any sounds of distress from Stephen.”

Benjamin nodded. “Yes, master. He enjoyed?”

Grinning, Lester replied, “What do you think? I might have to add some insulation to his room.”

“Yes, master. He is quite vocal.” Benjamin sounded as if he disapproved a little.

“I’ll be taking a nap in the spare room at the end. Call me when they’re finished.” Lester scribbled the ruling he’d promised Stephen on a page of his notebook and handed it to Benjamin, then headed down the hall for a quick rest. Stephen was his first purchase, and he was taking no chances with him.

Three and a half hours later, Lester woke to a light touch on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Benjamin standing with a smile on his face. “Master, the team-leaders are finished.”

Lester yawned and sat up. “What did they say?”

“They were most enthusiastic about him, master. They all said he seemed to truly enjoy them. And Elisha was quite impressed. She said he got her off so fast that they had time to discuss her problems with her wayward brother, and he gave her some outstanding advice on how to handle him.”

“Excellent. I’ll be right there. Have him prepare himself.”

Benjamin bowed his head. “Master.”

Lester dressed quickly and walked back down the hall to Stephen’s room. Entering the open door, he watched as Stephen strolled out of the bathroom, yawning a little, before noticing Lester and looking a bit shaken at not having caught his arrival. 

“Master?”

Lester smiled as he loosened his tie. “On the bed. On your hands and knees.”

Stephen’s eyes widened and he scrambled onto the mattress, quickly positioning himself. He wasn’t hard, but it looked as if he might actually be trying to get an erection; his cock was twitching a little.

“How many times did you climax?” Lester asked as he finished removing his clothing.

“Um, I’m not sure, master,” Stephen replied uncertainly. “I think I came for each of them. But not very hard for the last man. I’m sorry.”

Lester grunted. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not required to have an earth-shaking climax for every client. Enthusiasm is sufficient.”

Stephen’s face lit up. “That I can promise, master,” he said cheerfully as Lester stepped close and sheathed himself in one long plunge. Stephen gasped and shivered. Lester started thrusting, aiming for his prostate; not hard, but none too gently, either. Within a couple of minutes, Stephen started filling, and his gasps were becoming throaty moans. His arse was extremely tight but had a slight softness to it that gripped Lester’s cock, and Lester felt his climax rapidly approaching. Lester relaxed and allowed himself to come, and was surprised to feel Stephen also tighten under him one last time as he emptied himself warmly into the whore’s pliant body. 

He pulled out, and held Stephen down as the young man started to get up. “Lie flat.” Lester pulled a flannel from the warmer and cleaned himself, then Stephen, who was relaxed on the bed now. “Hands and knees again.”

Stephen obeyed, and Lester checked his hole carefully. There was swelling, and it looked rather red, but there were no tears and no blood showing; a gentle touch didn’t seem to cause any pain. Four men and a woman on his first night was excellent.

“You may lie down. How do you feel?” Lester asked. “And be honest.”

“A little sore,” Stephen said, stretching out and cradling his head on his forearms. “But it’s not too bad.” He smiled sleepily. “That was fun.”

Lester laughed with delight. “Yes, it was. All right, young man. You get two days rest and orientation, then you’ll be on the roster for full duty. Sleep now.”

“Yes, master, thank you,” Stephen replied through a yawn. He was asleep before Lester closed the door.

~*~*~

Almost 13 years had passed since that day, and Stephen Hart was still enthusiastic and even more accomplished than he had been when he first graduated. The years hadn’t dimmed him at all; they’d simply put a polish on him that made him almost irresistible. 

Lester ran a finger over his lips. Almost irresistible. Now that was an interesting idea; he might actually be able to use Stephen’s honey-pot effect to his advantage. There was a certain member of the ARI who was being difficult about the entire field of combined prostitution and psychology, with particular distaste for homosexuality; if he could be shown as wanting a whore, and a male whore at that. . . Lester made a mental note, but put it on the back burner for the moment.

One thing at a time. First to get his security updated. The A-R-C was successful enough to be high on the Indentured Rights target list. He was lucky the gang hadn’t hit him already.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan starts his new job, and meets the security teams.

Lester lifted the receiver of the house phone and pressed the number for his secretary. “Finn, start setting up all the hiring paperwork for Ryan first thing in the morning. He’ll be joining the A-R-C at 3pm tomorrow. Notify the rest of the applicants and the hiring firm that the position is filled.”

“Great,” Finn responded. “He’s the best of the bunch, for sure.”

“Indeed.” Lester yawned. “I’m going to catch a quick nap. I have to go to Lady Martha’s party this evening, and I’ll be up very late.”

“Right, sir. I’ll keep things calm. Abigail will be here any minute, and we’re booked up with vanilla regulars for the night, so everything should be smooth sailing for both her and Timmy.”

“Have her call me at eight, please.”

“Will do, Sir James.”

xXx

Ex-Major Tom Ryan, now just plain Ryan, entered the Sex House main doors at exactly 3pm the next day and looked around. Finn was again sitting at the desk in the main entryway, and he grinned at Ryan and motioned him over.

“Here, sir,” the young man said. “I’ve all the paperwork ready for you in my office. Feel free to look it over, and if you have any questions, just ask. When you’ve signed, I have orders to take you and introduce you to the day and evening teams. They should all be in by then. Sir James is out right now, but he’ll be back at nine.”

Ryan nodded and followed Finn into the office behind the reception area, where the young man sat him at the desk and poured him a cup of coffee from the urn in the corner. 

“Thanks. Please, call me Ryan,” Ryan said absently, already starting to go through the employment papers line by line. Twenty years in the military had taught him to check and double-check everything.

With a cheerful, “You’re welcome, Ryan,” Finn slipped out the door.

An hour and a half later, Ryan finished signing the last form. Every clause had been clear and, to his experienced eyes there were no camouflaged pitfalls anywhere, which boded very well for his future here. If his employer’s actions proved to be as straightforward and honourable as his employment agreements, then Ryan could see himself settling in for the long haul. 

He had authority over the entire security setup: hiring, firing, and all rewards and reprimands were in his hands. He was pre-authorised to hire up to three new people, and he could upgrade the security video feed as he saw fit, with a budget lavish enough to raise his eyebrows. Lester hadn’t seemed to be the generous type. Interesting. The only caveat was that the business would not close for the upgrade, so it had to be accomplished circumspectly. Ah, that might be one reason for the large budget. Ryan made a mental note to check on it, just to satisfy his curiosity.

Finn had clearly been keeping an eye on his progress, since it only took him about 20 seconds to pop his head through the door. “All done, Ryan?”

Standing and stretching, Ryan grinned and nodded. “All done and ready to start.”

“Excellent. The evening team has come in early, and they and the day team are gathered in the security break room, so I’ll take you over and introduce you. Leave the papers there, I’ll file them later.”

“Thanks. Lead on,” Ryan replied, waving the young man ahead of him.

They entered the break room to find two men and two woman sitting at one of the tables at the left side of the room. A quick glance around showed Ryan the couch and television set at the back and the small fridge and coffee-maker on the right. The room seemed to contain everything needed for relaxation, including a pile of books and magazines behind the couch, but the people at the tables were anything but relaxed. Finn named off the men as Collins and Patrick, and the women as Courtney and Liz.

Ryan nodded to them, taking their measure quickly: definitely defensive, knowing that he’d been hired to whip them into shape and not too pleased about it. He grimaced internally. 

“Thanks, Finn,” he said quietly, and Finn took it as meant, as a dismissal. 

Ever cheerful, he waved and disappeared.

Ryan looked at the crews, who had pulled their chairs even closer to each other in solidarity. Propping his hands on his hips, he grinned at them, taking them off balance.

“Right. All I know about you so far is your names. I haven’t looked at any reports, I have no pre-conceptions about any of you. First things first: what are the main duties for each of you?”

After quick glances at each other, they shrugged and responded in turn.

“Patrick. I mainly cover corridors, evening shift. And I’m straight.” The curly-haired man looked to carry a bit of a chip on his shoulder.

Ryan grunted. “Doesn’t matter. All I care about is that you can do your job. Next.”

“Courtney, and that’s my surname, not the given,” the redheaded woman grinned. “I’m evening shift, also.”

The blond man at the second table spoke harshly, not bothering with his name. “Security feed, day shift.” 

Ryan raised an eyebrow, allowing some amusement to show as he internally vowed to keep an eye on Collins. The blond had a challenging set to his shoulders and a nice line in narrow-eyed glares.

“Liz.” The dark-haired woman glanced at Collins with a slightly disgusted expression. “I cover the corridors and backup for security feed in the daytime.”

“Good.” Giving each one another straight look, Ryan continued, “I’m not here to bust your chops. I’m here to make things run smoothly. If you have any suggestions to make, make them whenever you want to. I won’t necessarily follow the suggestions you give, but I will listen to them. You’ve been here longer and have experience with the setup, but I have fresh eyes. Between us, we can work out anything we need to.” He checked his watch. “Now, we have about 20 minutes left on the day shift. Take me through the procedures.”

“Right now?” Collins asked.

Ryan stared straight into his eyes. “Right now.” He hadn’t expected to be challenged quite this soon. He kept his voice even and level, but it was clear that he expected to be obeyed. 

The others looked back and forth between Collins and Ryan, until Liz spoke up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Col, get over yourself.”

Ignoring the interruption, Ryan kept his eyes fixed on Collins, who was starting to look a little flustered, his eyes trying to drop away from Ryan’s dominant stare. When Collins’ lips tightened and his gaze dropped to his hands, which were fisted on the table, Ryan nodded. “Okay, let’s start with the security camera setup. Who watches when, and how does that affect the corridor watch?”

Courtney stood up. “I think it’ll be easier if we take this to the vid-room, don’t you?”

“Agreed.” Ryan headed out the door, leaving the others to follow. Once they were gathered around the security camera feed, Courtney again took over.

“So, one of us runs a patrol up and down the corridors for a while, then heads over here to watch the cameras, and the one watching the cameras heads out for corridor patrol. Officially, we run fifty-fifty on the timing, but we really tend to work with who has the better eyes for the video.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Hum, when there’s changeover time in here, then corridors could be unwatched for a few minutes?”

“No,” Liz chimed in. “We do it the other way. The video guard heads out, meets the other guard, then the replacement goes to the camera.”

“I see.” Ryan rubbed his chin. “So that gives you a quick look into the waiting area as you switch over, and the trade-off is a couple of minutes blank in the camera watch. I assume you take a swift vid rewind to make sure nothing was missed.”

“Exactly.” Patrick spoke up this time. They seemed to be getting a little easier with Ryan since he wasn’t criticising their procedures.

“What about the canteen and gym?” Ryan couldn’t see them having time to patrol down that private corridor in addition to keeping a good eye on the regular open client corridors.

Collins shrugged. “No clients in that area so we don’t usually bother. Besides, lots of times there’s an off-duty security person there, before and after shift, either eating or working out. They don’t get much official cover, but we’ve never had a problem.”

‘We’ve never had a problem’ didn’t mean they wouldn’t have one in the future. That was one hell of a hole in the security, as far as Ryan was concerned. Especially since the back door to the gym wasn’t far from the emergency exit at the rear of the building. He decided to leave it for the moment. “What about breaks? Surely you get at least one?”

“Three,” Liz replied. “We stagger them so we can stretch to cover each other’s areas. A short break morning and afternoon, and a longer lunch break. We stay in the vid-room if the other is on break.”

“Right.” So, if they had one guard in the vid-room and one on break, that left no guard to physically cover the three corridors or watch over the non-client areas. Jesus. He definitely needed to hire more people, that was for sure. Especially with the city regulations requiring that emergency exits be unlocked whenever the building was occupied - which for the A-R-C meant 24/7/365. He knew that was going to be a constant worry niggling at him until he could finish the door security upgrade. 

Ryan looked over the various screens again. They were all a mass of moving blurs. “Christ, I don’t see how you can even tell if there’s a problem. This is bloody awful vid.”

Patrick laughed out loud. “If you can talk the man into upgrading, we’ll be buying you a fucking cake.”

“Make an order from the local bakery, then,” Ryan grinned. “That’s one of the things he wants done. Complete surveillance upgrade.”

Patrick looked like he wanted to cheer. “Thank fuck. I have some ideas.” Then he stopped, seeming to remember he was supposed to be annoyed. “If you’re interested.”

“I’m interested,” Ryan replied with a nod, refusing the bait. “Get me a list of required equipment and a plan for where, when and how to install them without disrupting business, and we’ll talk about it.” He glanced at his watch. “And day shift is pretty much over. I’ll get out of your hair while you run through your change-of-shift procedures.” Stepping back, he didn’t miss the looks of confusion and consternation that passed between them.

“Um, we don’t really have any,” Liz confessed. “We just grab our next-shift counterparts and let them know if there have been any problems.”

Ryan shrugged. “That’s a procedure. Go for it.” He waved them out, not showing how appalled he was. Jesus, no wonder the efficiency ratings were down. And no wonder Lester was worried. Relying on memory and verbal transmission of status was the quickest way in the world to lose possibly vital information. Between that and the short-handedness, they were damned lucky the place hadn’t been stripped bare of what looked to be its extremely expensive statuary and artwork. He hadn’t had much experience with the high-class Houses, but human nature was human nature wherever it happened to be, and the decorations had to be worth a small fortune.

Ryan put in a very long workday wandering around the building, making notes of alterations he’d like to make. In the process, he made himself known to Abigail, the platinum-haired, elfin young woman who took over the desk from Finn at 5pm. She gave him a gamine grin and a firm handshake, told him to call her Abby and to ask anything he wanted, and turned back to her work. Clients were starting to arrive more frequently, and she had the friendly but businesslike greeting down pat. 

Ryan watched her for a few minutes as she welcomed them and guided them to their rooms with sensitivity and aplomb, making no visible differentiation between those visiting for psychological sessions and those arriving for physical release. The girl was very good. Lester certainly knew what he was doing on the customer service front. He ran into Lester a few times during his wanderings and nodded, but the owner didn’t interrupt him. Lester was busy, clearly working with the most important clients himself. Ryan kept an eye out, but he never saw Stephen Hart, although there was a steady stream of people being escorted into that particular corridor.

Once the evening shift changed over at 1am, Ryan repeated the introduction process one last time with Timmy at the front desk and Davidson and Ainley of the security night shift before signing out and heading home with a lot to think about. 

The day and evening didn’t seem to be too exposed; the place was busy enough that a raid would be unlikely, but starting a couple of hours into the night shift was when they would become more vulnerable, as the frequency of appointments finally wound down for the night.

He’d been quite surprised to see from the scheduled bookings that the A-R-C would often be fairly busy until three or four in the morning. Then it would slow down until about noon, and finally business would start picking up again by one in the afternoon to remain busy until the next early morning. Then he mentally shrugged. In this modern hooked-in world, most companies were run on a 24-hour basis, and people lived their lives at very odd hours so maybe it wasn’t so odd, after all. He wondered idly just how long a shift each whore was expected to work.

xXx

Ryan arrived at the A-R-C at 2pm the next day to watch the day shift guards work, and after a couple of hours he’d seen everything he needed to. At that point Patrick came in early for his 5pm shift and with a slightly challenging air handed him some notes on an upgraded video system. Ryan had simply grinned, taken the sheaf, and thanked the man. Patrick had given him a nod and a slight grin in return and told him that he was heading back to the gym for a quick workout until it was time for him to go on duty.

At 1am, eleven hours from the time he arrived, Ryan was sitting in Finn’s office behind the reception desk with the door open, reading over his notes with tired, burning eyes and watching with heavy lids as Timmy took over from Abby at the front desk. The lack of security in this place was alarming. There were no standard procedures followed, no notes made of problems that occurred, no actual coordination between the guards as they moved from area to area. The guards seemed to spend their shifts simply winging it and they didn’t have the faintest idea how to do so effectively. And it didn’t help that they were trying to work with outdated equipment. Between the dreadful surveillance system, outdated door alarms, and what seemed to be a complete lack of training, drastic changes were needed, and quickly, if Lester’s worry about the potential for violence from the Indentured Rights group was justified.

At 2am, twelve hours from the time he arrived, Ryan was up to his ears in trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Indentured Rights group attacks

At exactly 2am, four men burst through the front doors of the A-R-C, hooded and gloved, armed with clubs and knives. They split up, three heading toward the three clients sitting in the waiting area enjoying a cup of tea after their appointments and holding what looked like the tail end of an unofficial business meeting if the files in their hands and the white noise emitter on the table in front of them were any indication, and the fourth one breaking right to threaten Timmy, who was standing behind the reception desk with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. 

Ryan, in Finn’s office, grabbed his radio and alerted the guards, wondering why they weren’t already showing up. Right now, someone should have been watching the security feed. He didn’t wait for them. The moment the yob holding a knife to Timmy’s neck and demanding the records room keys turned his back to the door, Ryan burst out of the office and, grabbing the man’s knife hand, he silently and efficiently knocked him out with the hilt of his own weapon. Letting the body slide to the floor, motioning for Timmy to remain quiet, Ryan then moved swiftly across the waiting room after the other three men. 

The two with the clubs were breaking the sculptures and fine porcelain in the room and pulling out spray paint, preparing to deface the walls and paintings. The second knife-wielder was threatening the customers, who were quickly removing their watches and rings and pulling their wallets from pockets and purse, expressions mixing horror and fury. Ryan took out that one with a swift blow to the temple. He didn’t have time to be delicate and the yob hit the floor hard; whether dead or simply unconscious, Ryan neither knew nor cared. Luckily the customers seemed to be made of fairly stern stuff; there were no screams or curses at the sudden threats and harsh violence of Ryan’s retaliation. The lone woman shrank back a little, but that might have been simply because the body almost landed slap on her very expensive footwear.

Before the other two had time to react to the thud of their compatriot dropping, Ryan was between them with one hand on the back of each of their necks. Heaving backwards and yanking them together as hard as he could, he listened with satisfaction to the wet thump of their skulls meeting at speed. They dropped without making a sound into a puddle of limp appendages as the other two guards finally rushed into the room, eyes wide.

Ryan gave them a quick, hard stare, then turned to Timmy. “Take care of the clients; put them in Lester’s lounge and call him right away.”

Still staring, Timmy jumped a little and stepped forward. “Y-yes-s-s, s-s-sir,” he stuttered, quite obviously as shocked as the clients were at the speed of the encounter and the rapidity of its resolution. He stepped forward and ushered the three toward Lester’s lounge.

The oldest client looked back at Ryan as he carried his files with him. “I will expect my personal possessions to be returned promptly,” he said, smiling grimly. He had the tone and carriage of ex-military himself.

Ryan nodded. “As soon as the police have been able to photograph them in situ, sir, I’ll have them back to you,” he replied, then turned to the night shift guards, who were standing there, looking rather sheepish. 

Taking a few slow, deep breaths to control his temper and ease the adrenaline rush, Ryan motioned to the yobs lying in abandoned poses on the floor like some sort of hopefully still living artworks. “Tie them up, moving them as little as possible,” he ordered shortly. “I’m going to call the police.”

By the time he finished giving the relevant information to the dispatcher, who heard the name A-R-C and immediately promised a rapid response team, Timmy was back, looking uncertain.

“I gave them some of Sir James’s best scotch,” he said, chewing his lip. “I hope that’s alright. And I called Sir James. He’s on his way. He should be here in five minutes, he said.”

“That’s perfect,” Ryan replied. He looked around, gauging the situation. “Are there any clients scheduled to leave or arrive soon?”

Timmy shook his head. “Not for another forty minutes or so.”

“Good. The police should be here in ten minutes. That ought to give us time to at least clear the thugs out before clients show up. Their carcasses are cluttering up the place rather messily.”

Timmy actually giggled, to Ryan’s relief. The mild young man looked to have been horribly shocked by the raid and its rapid termination. Ryan patted him on the shoulder and suggested that he check on the clients again. Timmy trotted off obediently, still smiling.

Turning away, Ryan strode back over to the night shift guards, who had secured the four yobs with zip-ties and were now standing side-by-side defensively. Before they could open their mouths to excuse themselves, he shook his head. “No need. I checked the procedures book. Things like this aren’t covered in your training.” Looking back and forth between them, he throttled down the last traces of anger. They actually hadn’t taken very long to arrive, he’d simply reacted a lot faster than anyone expected. 

“Davidson, get back to the security room, see if you can save the footage from this area for the police.”

The guard nodded and headed out, relief showing in the set of his shoulders. He’d obviously been expecting a bollocking.

“Ainley, hang here and keep an eye on the yobs.” 

The bulky Ainley stayed where he was, looming over the prone trio with a threatening look on his face. He was clearly hoping they’d wake up soon so he could redeem himself.

Ryan walked back toward the front doors to keep the corner of his eye on the trussed-up fourth invader, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. This was the last thing he needed: to have a raid occur on his second full day of work. As Lester strode quickly through the doors and stopped with a horrified expression on his face, Ryan imagined what it would be like, as the owner, to walk in and see his A-R-C’s expensive porcelain and statuary scattered around the floor in pieces, along with four men tied up amidst the mess. It wasn’t exactly the type of sight Lester would be used to facing in his extremely exclusive establishment. Ryan braced himself and stepped up.

“Sir,” he managed to get out, before Lester interrupted.

“Well done, Ryan.”

That set Ryan back on his heels. They’d just been raided, and his boss was complimenting him? 

Lester smiled grimly. “Yes, we have bodies littering the floor and some valuable works of art have been treated rather badly, but on the good side, our clients are in one piece and at least some members of the gang that’s been raiding Houses for the past year have finally been caught.”

“I. . . see,” Ryan replied, not really seeing at all, but sure that something needed to be said.

“Let me know when the police arrive,” Lester said, heading for his office. “Time for some damage control. I really do hate having to give refunds.” The final sentence was spoken over his shoulder in a rather plaintive tone, and Ryan grinned. It seemed the boss really wasn’t at all unhappy.

Five minutes later, the police arrived. Ten minutes after that, the police had taken their photographs, recorded their witness statements, accepted the security tape with appreciation, returned the clients’ possessions, and happily frog-marched the yobs off of the premises to the accompaniment of profuse thanks to Ryan, who was having some trouble hiding his embarrassment. 

Lester mouthed, “Ten minutes, my office,” as he headed for his lounge, wallets and jewellery in hand to return to the clients. 

Ryan sighed and stretched his neck. It was definitely going to be a longer night than he’d planned. He checked his watch. 2:45 in the morning. Christ. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up just a little.

“Sir.” 

The voice behind Ryan didn’t quite make him jump, but then he had been half-expecting it. He turned to Davidson with a weary smile. “One hell of a night,” he said quietly.

The other man visibly braced himself. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, swallowing through his staccato sentences. “I was in the security room. I waited too long. I was trying to get Ainley on the radio. He was in the canteen.”

Ryan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, there was no procedure for this. And if you’d shown up by yourself, it could have got very messy. Two with knives, and hostages as well?”

Davidson frowned. “You took care of all of them by yourself.”

“And I just got out of the military,” Ryan replied. “I’m still running on Special Forces reflexes.”

Eyes wide, Davidson said, “Oh. That makes more sense.” He shrugged. “We couldn’t work out how the devil you took them down so fast. Now we know.”

Ryan grinned, then yawned. “Do me a favour? See if you can clean up some of this mess before the clients come out and the next lot arrive? You have less than ten minutes.”

Davidson nodded. “Sure thing, boss.” Flipping his hand in a half-salute, he headed over to Ainley and spoke rapidly to him before they split up to get to work tidying.

Ryan smiled, pleased at the respect shown by the title, then walked over to meet Lester, who was looking surprisingly cheerful as the three clients exited. 

“Well, that was gratifying,” Lester said, crossing his arms over his chest as Ryan stepped up beside him. “They actually refused to accept any refund, since they had already completed their liaisons. And the Colonel was quite impressed with your reaction time, Ryan.” He turned to face Ryan, and the ex-soldier did his best to look entirely alert.

“Hmm,” Lester said, with one eyebrow flying, “I think you need rest more than a meeting right now.” He turned to Timmy. “Call a cab. Ryan is going home.” When Timmy nodded, Lester looked back at Ryan. “Come in an hour early tomorrow and we’ll go over any procedural changes you recommend.”

Ryan gave him a sideways look, then grinned tiredly at the smile lurking on the corners of Lester’s mouth. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed his papers from Finn’s office and trudged heavily through the doors to wait for the cab, gratified when it arrived and the driver told him the fare had already been placed on the A-R-C’s monthly tab.

Xxx

“So, what happened last night?” 

Ryan turned at the soft voice from behind him. Stephen Hart was standing very close with a slight smile on his face, but barely hidden worry in his eyes. Ryan grinned back. 

“Battle but not murder, alarms but not excursions,” he quipped, pleased to see the worry replaced by glee in the cobalt eyes.

“Oh, I do like you, Mr. Ryan,” Stephen said with a chuckle. “Please tell me you haven’t been frightened off by our rampaging nutters.”

Ryan laughed outright. “Not a chance. If it hadn’t happened at the end of a 12 hour shift, I’d’ve enjoyed the action. As it was, I just wanted it to be over with. And please, call me Ryan.”

When Stephen’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, Ryan continued with a melodramatically sad look at him, “I think I was a little bit short tempered with them.” Then he raised an eyebrow and said sarcastically, “Rampaging nutters, hmm? You implied that you didn’t know what happened.”

Stephen’s lips twitched. “Caught. Of course I know. Everyone does. The speed of the rumour mill around here would put a supersonic jet to shame. Don’t be surprised if you have a lot of whores thanking you today.”

Ryan wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, so, both for informational purposes and in the interests of continuing the conversation, he asked. “What do you mean?”

Cocking his head, Stephen looked quizzical. “You really don’t know?”

When Ryan shook his head, Stephen’s expression became serious. “Those yobs have been doing more than just stealing jewellery and damaging furnishings. Once they destroy the fittings, they’ve been using their knives and clubs on the whores, too. They know we have to be in perfect condition, and they seem to think that damaging us will stop us from being ‘taken advantage of’.” He made sarcastic air-quotes. 

“Shit.” Ryan was suddenly angry. “Now I wish I’d hurt them more.”

“Thank you,” Stephen said softly, blinking in what looked like surprise. “To some, we Indentured aren’t really people, just counters in some sort of power-game. It’s nice to know you think differently.”

About to reply rather heatedly, Ryan almost jumped when Finn spoke behind him. “Sir James is ready to see you, Ryan.”

With a quick touch to his arm, Stephen smiled and walked back toward his corridor. Ryan watched him for a moment, then shook himself, arm tingling where the fingers had almost caressed him, and followed Finn to Lester’s office.

xXx

Two hours later, to his shock, Ryan had everything he’d asked for. Twenty years in the military, with its red tape and convoluted approval procedures, hadn’t prepared him for Lester’s speed of action. 

“So, to recap,” the owner said with a slight quirk of his lips at what Ryan knew must be the gob-smacked expression on his face, “there will be much more comprehensive security rounds and shift turnover procedures, associated training plans for both, new electronic locks for the front and back doors connected to the local police and fire stations, a new video security system, also capable of connecting if necessary to the police, and a new supervisor for each shift.”

Ryan nodded. “I’d like to credit Patrick for the video setup arrangement. He had an excellent plan already designed. Saved me a lot of work.”

Lester nodded and made a note. “Glad to hear that the mind of at least one of the current staff hasn’t been squashed by outdated policies.”

That set Ryan back on his heels for a moment, until he caught the contemptuous glint in Lester’s eyes. The owner was obviously kicking himself for not having taken action earlier to neutralize the rather comprehensive list of problems that Ryan had handed him this afternoon, along with recommended fixes for each one.

“Sometimes it takes outside eyes to see things,” Ryan said neutrally. “What works well for a very long time can become first obsolete and then completely fossilised without anyone realising it.”

“Indeed.” Lester pulled out the recommendations for new personnel. “These three men you wish to hire: Richards, Owen, and Lyle. I’m assuming you know them personally?”

Ryan nodded. “Yes. They’re all military, about to de-mob.” 

“Why?” 

Lester’s question caught him by surprise, until he realised that the man wanted to know that he was getting the best, rather than simply those who happened to be available.

“They’re all good men,” he replied seriously. “Lyle has been my right hand for a long time; he said the military won’t be the same under another C.O.” Shrugging, he added, “I trust him with my life.”

Lester nodded for him to continue, and he thought for a moment, then continued, “Owen is a medic. He’s been on my team for five years, and I’ve never known him to be at a loss about anything. He’s married now to a fantastic woman, and as much as he loves the military life, he’s ready to settle down. He handles people brilliantly, even better than Lyle,” he grinned, “who takes some getting used to.”

“Wonderful,” the owner snarked, then smiled. “But, perhaps a little shaking up will do everyone some good. And Richards?”

“Is completely bonkers,” Ryan said cheerfully. “Some people consider him to be a total psycho, but he’s the man I like to have at my back in the worst situations. I’d recommend him for the night shift. He’s at his best at the times when things could get the worst. He’s not the most tactful person, so he’s not for the evening shift when traffic is highest. He’s direct, sure of himself, and doesn’t take any shit. He’ll do well working with the current night shift men; they need a strong, steady hand. Owen’s best for the morning, I think; he can make sure the day is set up to run smoothly. I’d recommend Lyle for evening; he may have a bit of a mouth on him, but his brand of humour often helps sets people at ease.”

Lester nodded, looking thoughtful. “An excellent recommendation for all three. I will take Richards under advisement, though, just in case.”

Grinning, Ryan shrugged. “He’ll be fine. He doesn’t talk much, and he does carry a rather large number of knives, but he knows how to run a team.”

Lester’s eyes had widened at the mention of ‘knives’, plural, but then relaxed when Ryan said that the man was experienced. “Very well.” He pulled out a pen and signed the bottom of each of the pages. “Barring any hitches that might occur in the hiring process, all three men are approved. The training and procedures modifications you’ve outlined are excellent, and I would like them to be put into practice as soon as possible. Hand the details to Finn, and he’ll type up the changes for your approval. He’ll also organise the forms required to start the recruitment process for you and to order the new camera setup. He can oversee the installation work when it starts, or you can, whichever you prefer. “ He looked at Ryan and smiled. “One last thing; I’ll have him send Patrick to my office when he starts his guard shift so I can reward him immediately for his suggestion.”

Ryan was internally gobsmacked again. Not only had Lester agreed to a reward, but that he was willing to give it out quickly enough that it would be associated directly with the action that warranted it was brilliant. Taking the sheets, Ryan gave a half-salute and headed for Finn’s desk. He was surprised again when the young man took the papers and started flipping through them immediately. The clutter that had been hiding the top of his desk when Ryan first entered the offices was now completely gone. 

He grinned at Ryan and shrugged. “When you were in there so long, I knew that things were going to start jumping when you got out. Which would you like me to take care of first?”

“The camera setup order,” Ryan replied. “I’ll take care of contacting Lyle, Richards and Owen. Any particular time for them to come in? They can be here any time from tomorrow morning on.”

“Tomorrow would be great, they can show up together if they want, in the early afternoon,” Finn said absently, perusing the video order sheet. “I’ll have their paperwork ready by then. Wow, this is really detailed. Recommended vendors, part numbers and everything. Thanks! I’m used to having to look everything up myself.”

“Thank Patrick,” Ryan said with a faint grin. “It’s his.”

“Ah, that explains this.” Finn turned his computer screen so Ryan could see it. ‘Send Patrick to me earliest’, was blinking in the ‘Urgent Message’ window.

Ryan laughed. “That’s it. Okay, thanks, Finn, let me know if you have any questions.” Heading across the still slightly bare of decoration waiting area in the direction of the canteen, he pulled out his phone and started dialling. Things were about to get very interesting. And much easier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is rewarded.

Stephen woke early in the afternoon three days before Christmas. With the holiday season in full swing, their business had hit what he referred to as the annual sexcapade doldrums. After the New Year, things would return to normal, but for now, his main occupation was counselling and comforting those who were lonely over the holidays. 

He had long ago come to terms with his Indentured status; he’d had to, since there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. And regardless of his personal standing, one of the things he loved about his occupation (aside from the lashings of sex, of course) was the chance to simply help someone find him or herself, whether physically, emotionally, or a combination of both. And this season allowed a lot of it. 

Yawning, he rose, put everything away in his front room, organised his desk, checked his supplies and schedule, sent a message to Finn requesting the yearly renewal of his Psychology Today subscription, showered, and after checking the time, finally headed to the canteen for breakfast so he’d be out of the way while the cleaners sanitised his rooms for the day. Once he had his tray, he looked around for someone to eat with. Luck was with him. Only one person was present: Ryan had come in early, and was absently taking bites of toast while reading what looked like a fascinating report. 

Stephen grinned to himself. Now was his chance to see if the last three months worth of controlled friendliness leavened with a pinch of flirtatiousness would finally come to fruition. Time to show that he had a mind as well as a body. He wondered for a moment whether he was making a mistake, letting his fascination with the ex-soldier overtake good sense. Then he decided the hell with it, he wanted to know Tom Ryan better, in all senses of the word.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, quietly enough not to startle someone who might be buried in his reading.

Ryan looked up at him with a slight smile and Stephen made a note in his mind: situational awareness superb. The man had obviously known he was there from the moment he set foot through the door.

“Not at all,” Ryan said, putting his paperwork to the side. “Just going over the preliminary annual reports before I discuss them with Sir James.” He smiled at Stephen. “It gives us a chance to work on, and hopefully fix, any problems before the full reports come out in January.”

Stephen grinned happily. Perfect opening. He set his tray down and sat just a fraction too close to Ryan to be accidental, noting the other man’s tiny eyebrow twitch. “I hope everything is going well?” He put just a bit of query into the statement.

“Yes, it is,” Ryan replied gravely. 

Stephen looked a little closer, and saw the amusement lurking in the storm-cloud eyes. His grin widened. This was getting better and better. Leaning back casually, he asked a few more leading questions, coaxing Ryan to start opening up a little. The man’s satisfaction with his job and his happiness at having his former military subordinates on board to back him were palpable. Stephen had to counsel so many people who were discontented in their lives and careers that it was a joy to interact with someone who was actually enjoying his profession. And with the Indentured Rights people having pulled in their horns after the trial and conviction of their gang members, Ryan’s teams looked to be having time to settle in well with the new organisational structure. At least they looked as if they were from their satisfied miens whenever Stephen met them in the halls, anyway. 

Having drifted back inside his mind for a moment, Stephen almost jumped when Ryan suddenly asked him a question, strangely enough almost paralleling Stephen’s thoughts.

“I’ve been watching, and noticing a lot more, lately,” Ryan said. “I’ve seen quite of bit of disparity in the treatment of Indentured at various places. Do you - are you - okay with it - your life?” He shook his head. “Damn, I’m making a hash of this.”

Stephen took his courage in his hands, and placed one over Ryan’s restless fingers on the table. This wasn’t exactly the direction he’d planned to take, but it would do. He wanted Ryan. And Ryan wouldn’t want him unless he knew it was voluntary. With the annual rewards coming up, he intended to let the security chief know that he would love to be that reward.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, holding on as the restless fingers stilled. “I know what you mean. And it’s funny, I was just thinking about that this morning. Considering how much I love sex.” He wiggled his eyebrows and happily noted Ryan’s near-blush. “And psychology, I think I would have chosen whoredom even if I hadn’t been Indentured.” At Ryan’s mixed look of pity, anger and interest, he added quietly, “My uncle was convicted of embezzlement, just before I was born. He had no children under the age of one, so as the nearest relative of the suitable age, I was taken in on my first birthday.” Shrugging off a momentary wish that he was free, he continued, “We’re tested at around the age of five, to see what we’re suited for. They won’t train a person who’s only excellent at mathematics up to be an Indentured warrior, for example, or make someone whose forte is physical co-ordination attempt to be a theoretical physicist. I tested high in both empathy and physical skills, so I was set for either military or whoredom.”

A quick glance at Ryan showed him that the ex-soldier was still very interested, and seemed to be feeling sympathy now instead of anger and pity, so he lightened his expression again. “When I hit puberty, it became obvious that military life was out of the question - with my libido I’d end up being more of a lover than a fighter.” 

When Ryan chuckled in response, Stephen leaned back and relaxed. Having discovered that honesty was more intriguing to the former soldier than any playacted flirtatiousness, he kept hold of Ryan’s fingers and toyed with them as spoke musingly. “Most people understand that we Indentured are innocent of wrongdoing ourselves, and so they treat us fairly well. There is the odd nastiness, of course, especially toward those of us who test as psychologically suited to be whores. Some repressed people focus on the sexual aspect and completely discount our psychology training and the counselling facet of our work. Some others hate the combination of the two. But for me, I have little to complain about. I just consider myself very lucky that Sir James was the man who bought my contract.”

Ryan twitched at those words, and Stephen smiled. “Yes, it is a contract. They refer to us as ‘slaves’, but in a way, we’re much more like the Indentured servants we’re officially called. The only difference is that we can’t buy ourselves out.” At Ryan’s quizzical look, he asked, “Indentured are used in the enlisted ranks of the military, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied, slightly defensively, “but military Indentured are allowed to retire.”

Stephen laughed, “Yes, when they’re seventy, if they survive that long.”

Ryan winced, and Stephen squeezed his hand. “That wasn’t an indictment, Ryan. Simply a fact. The military life is a dangerous one. As for the rest of us,” he shrugged, “there are regulations as to our treatment. We have to obey orders from anyone, but our owner's orders supersede anyone else’s, and we can refuse any order that conflicts with them. That’s one way whores can stay safe. As long as our owner gives clear written guidelines, we can show the client exactly why we’re refusing, and they can’t kick off about it.”

“That sounds like the owner still has the upper hand,” Ryan objected.

“Of course,” Stephen smiled. “He wouldn’t be the owner if he didn’t. Many jobs have rules that people don’t like but still put up with. We can’t quit; we can, however, petition the ARI for redress if we’ve been badly treated - we can even be removed from that owner if the treatment's too bad.” His smile widened and he took a swig of coffee. “The downside to using that option is that we’re stuck with whoever wants us after that, so it’s best to be really, really sure that we want out before burning bridges. Not many good owners want a ‘servant’ who’s liable to turn on them.”

“Ouch,” Ryan commented, and Stephen was gratified to feel his fingers being caressed absently.

“On the other hand, we’re placed into fields where we have the chance to excel, and are given full training.” Stephen sat up a little straighter and raised his chin. “I didn’t have to pay a penny for my education like free men do, and I’d earned a double Masters degree with honours, in psychology and human sexuality, by the time I was 18.” 

Ryan’s eyes widened. “I knew you were trained, but a double Masters at that age? That’s bloody impressive.”

Happy to see the real admiration in Ryan’s eyes that matched his words, Stephen gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Like I said, we’re suited to our trades. It would be a lot better if all children were given the opportunity to find what they’re suited for, not just what interests them ‘right now’.” When Ryan frowned, Stephen shook his head. “Not forced into occupations, just given the opportunity. Maybe nudged, because knowing what you’ll be really good at can help immensely as you chart your life’s path.”

Ryan nodded at that, looking thoughtful. “True. Some of us are lucky enough to just know, but some aren’t. I’ve seen it. Men who went into the military for the danger, and ended up washing out because it turned out that what they wanted was just excitement and change rather than the type of danger we run into.”

“Exactly.” Stephen beamed at him, as proud as a parent at a recital.

Ryan was swift enough to recognise the expression and laughed, to Stephen’s delight. When the security chief glanced at his watch, however, Stephen returned to seriousness.

“You have work to do,” he said. “I’ll let you get back to it.” Hesitating just long enough to let Ryan notice it, he leaned forward quickly and kissed him, softly and with closed lips. “Happy Christmas,” he said quietly, and walked away. 

In the shine of the glass door he saw Ryan raise his fingers to his lips and was pleased with his progress. Phase one complete. Phase two would be up to Ryan. The Head of Security was bound to be rewarded for this quarter’s improvements, but who would he pick for his reward? 

A month later, Stephen found out. After stellar annual profits, Lester, in an unprecedented action at this busy time of the year, was going to close the A-R-C for two hours on the last day of the month and give every company employee, including contractors, the choice of either an assignation with a whore or alternatively a monetary award equal to the value of the visit. As Head of Security, second only to Sir James, Ryan would have his choice of whore, but to avoid a ‘run’ on the most popular whores and hard feelings amongst the rest, the other employees would have their whore assigned based on management’s knowledge of their likes and dislikes. According to Finn (and Stephen asked), when they were given their assignments, no one requested the alternate prize or a replacement whore.

Ryan did choose Stephen, to his joy. When he found out, Stephen wondered idly whether their growing closeness over the last few weeks had gone unnoticed, but then he overheard Lester telling Finn that his quite obvious happiness was raising his already high ratings right through the roof. He walked on clouds for the rest of the day.

xXx

Stephen cocked his head. “Are you nervous?” he asked quietly as Ryan hesitated in the doorway.

The ex-soldier chuckled a little. “I think I am,” he admitted. “I’ve never patronised a. . .” 

He paused, seemingly at a loss, and Stephen reached out and took his hand. “It’s alright. You can use the word whore, you know by now there’s no insult in it.” He led Ryan through the main room and over to the bed in the back area, allowing the outer door to slide closed on its own behind them. 

“How do you want this?” he asked, running his finger down Ryan’s cheek. When Ryan looked momentarily flustered, he took a chance, smiled softly, and said, “I can lead. Or you can lead.” He gave Ryan a quick push that sat him abruptly on the bed, then straddled him, draped his arms across the wide shoulders, grinned impishly and whispered in his ear, “Or we can simply get naked and see what happens.”

When Ryan laughed openly and solid arms wrapped him in a tight hug, Stephen knew he’d taken the right road by using humour. He stood slowly, reaching out to pull Ryan to his feet and hold him close. He closed his eyes and felt Ryan take a deep breath, then the warm lips closed over his and he moaned softly into them. So few clients ever kissed him. Kissing was too personal, gave away too much; not many people were willing to take the chance. He took his own chance and opened his mouth to slide his tongue lightly across Ryan's lips. The resulting groan and deepening of pressure on his mouth hit him hard. He pulled away slightly with a quick peck, and opened his eyes to meet Ryan’s shattered gaze.

Stephen took a deep breath and started removing Ryan’s clothing, piece by piece. He didn’t bother with neatness, just unbuttoned and slid them off and dropped them on the floor by his feet. Once Ryan was naked, his cock an erect and mouth-watering sight, Stephen nudged him down onto the bed again and stepped back. Keeping his eyes openly on the prone man, he doffed his own clothing without ceremony, dropping them with Ryan’s onto the floor. He could tell that the symbolism wasn’t lost on Ryan by the way his eyes narrowed and went intense. Once naked, Stephen moved slowly back to the bed and straddled Ryan again, slowly, inch by inch pressing himself down to lie flat on the hard body under him. 

Once they were plastered together, he rocked his hips slowly against Ryan’s groin as he propped himself on his elbows and looked down into Ryan's face. Ryan’s eyes had drifted closed and he was breathing deeply in time with Stephen’s movement. Stephen smiled and dropped his head to Ryan's shoulder, taking a deep breath himself. A second later, he was glad he had when he found himself unexpectedly on his back with Ryan looming over him, smiling.

“My turn,” Ryan whispered.

Stephen closed his eyes when Ryan’s lips closed over his, and he gave himself to one of the deepest kisses he’d ever tasted. It felt as if Ryan was attempting to memorise every square millimetre of his mouth. He moaned softly and tangled his tongue with Ryan’s, not trying to take over or fight for supremacy, just joining and savouring. He’d be happy doing nothing but this for the next two hours, but Ryan seemed to have other ideas, if his wandering hands were any indication. 

The callused fingers and rough palms dragging across his skin drew another groan from him as he wrapped his legs around Ryan’s, twining them closer together, groins sliding against each other in heat and hardness.

“Oh, crap.” Ryan pulled away with a gasp and Stephen chuckled. 

“We have plenty of time,” he whispered, and rolled sideways, still holding on but not so tightly.

Ryan dropped his head to Stephen’s shoulder and ghosted a laugh onto the smooth skin before raising his head again and pressing his forehead to Stephen’s. “You are amazing,” he said softly. 

Stephen smiled and ran his fingers across Ryan's lips, going a little breathless when Ryan captured the digits between his teeth and licked the tips. He had to draw on every iota of control he’d ever developed not to come right then and there. Forcing a few deep breaths when he wanted to pant, staring into Ryan’s stormy eyes, he started letting a little true emotion show. When Ryan’s eyes widened a little, Stephen smiled and started kissing down Ryan’s body, lips and tongue working along the hard pecs and rippled abs. Ryan dropped onto his back with a groan, and Stephen slowly allowed his tongue to stroke the hard cock in front of him, right under the ridge of the head, just a little, just enough to tease. Ryan cursed again as his cock jumped.

Sliding down on the bed, Stephen started working harder, alternating little dabbles of his tongue on the shaft with harder licks and just a few tiny nibbles at the base, trailing from there down the sack holding the hard balls, licking around them, capturing one then the other with his mouth, rolling them with his tongue, tugging the skin with his lips. When Ryan’s moans started sounding pleading, he moved back to the rigid shaft, taking it down his throat in one determined swallow. 

Ryan bucked under him with a shout, and Stephen started sucking hard, moving up and down the shaft, lips alternating firm pressure on the pull and tongue lashing on the return stroke, swallowing him down every time. Rolling the rising balls in one hand, he slid his other hand up Ryan’s chest and tweaked the nipple closest to him as he swallowed, hard, one last time. Every muscle in Ryan’s body went rock-solid and he came down Stephen’s throat in three long spurts, groaning Stephen’s name in a tone that sounded like a prayer.

Stephen pulled slowly off him, making sure not to cause pain to the over-sensitive flesh. He was mentally thanking the lessons on control he’d been given all those years ago, because he had just come closer than he ever had to climaxing simply from the taste of Ryan and the sound of Ryan’s voice calling his name as he came.

He slid catlike up Ryan’s body until he could rest his head on Ryan’s trembling shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, rubbing gentle, soothing circles on Ryan’s stomach.

“I think I just shot my brain out my cock,” Ryan groaned, rubbing his face.

Stephen laughed delightedly. “You have plenty of time to re-grow some new cells,” he teased.

Ryan lowered his hand and stared at him. “You’ve a damned flattering opinion of my recovery speed.”

“I know a few tricks.” Stephen wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, letting the tip of his tongue peek out between his teeth for just a second. When Ryan’s eyes were drawn there as if by a magnet, he mentally patted himself on the back. Phase Two was going very well, indeed.

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back again and Ryan was holding him down. The strength of the grip made it impossible for him to move, and the lust in the grey eyes staring into his almost made him come right then. Bloody hell, he’d never been interested in bondage in his life, but he would let Ryan tie him up in a second. “Please,” he whispered, the word wrenched out of him without thought.

Ryan grinned ferally, and, keeping his eyes fixed on Stephen’s, dropped his head to Stephen’s groin and closed his mouth over Stephen’s almost painfully hard cock.

“Holy fucking shit,” Stephen whispered as the heat and suction took over his mind. His head dropped back onto the pillow with a thump, and he gave himself the rare treat of allowing pleasure to overtake him, dropping all his usual control and cursing with every rhythmic movement of Ryan’s mouth and hands.

When Ryan’s tongue rubbed hard at that certain spot under the head of his cock, and Ryan pressed the heel of his hand against his balls, Stephen started repeating himself, loudly. When one set of fingers started switching back and forth between his nipples, rolling the nubs and pinching, and a finger of the other hand rubbed circles on his hole, dipping inside in matching time to both the pinching and the sucking, he let himself go finally and completely, allowing his orgasm to wash through him. Starting at the base of his spine, the ecstasy rippled through his legs and belly in waves, finally exploding in his brain and whiting out his vision for a moment.

He came back to the world to find himself being cradled in Ryan’s arms, the other man’s check resting on his hair. “Mmmm,” he murmured. “That was amazing.” He lifted his head and smiled at Ryan, whose expression combined smugness with surprise. Resting his chin on one hand, fingers of the other moving slowly in circular patterns on Ryan’s chest, he said, “I understand the smugness, but not the surprise.”

Ryan’s eyebrows made a break for his hairline, and Stephen sat up and stretched ostentatiously, beaming happily at the result. If Ryan’s tongue wetting his lips was any indication, his mouth had just gone dry.

“Um.” Ryan blinked slowly and returned from wherever his mind seemed to have drifted. “You’re the expert here,” he said with a shrug.

“Ah,” Stephen replied. That’s what he’d suspected. “Technical expertise actually gives less pleasure to the recipient than truly felt enthusiasm,” he stated in a sonorous tone, staring at the wall with his nose in the air.

Ryan looked puzzled for a second, then grinned. “A school lecturer, I assume?”

Stephen grinned back. “Got it in one.” He leaned over Ryan and whispered in his ear, “Want to see what else he taught me?” and chuckled when Ryan shivered.

“Damn straight,” the former soldier replied, pulling him close. “Use your tricks, Stephen, because I want to come inside you.”

Stephen shivered himself, his cock twitching as his reaction to the words made their way down his spine. He laughed gleefully when Ryan blinked at the motion against his hip, and reached out to grab condoms from the table beside the bed. Sitting up, he pressed at the base of Ryan’s cock with one hand and stroked his perineum in time with fingers of the other. Then he leaned over and blew softly across the head, moving his hand in a corkscrew manoeuvre up and down the shaft. He felt Ryan go limp under him as his cock filled rapidly from the ministrations. Once it was hard enough, he gave one little tongue-flicking kiss to the tip, rolled condoms on first Ryan, then himself so he wouldn’t soak either the sheets or his client when he came, and slid up Ryan’s body to kiss him deeply, allowing Ryan to feel his own resurgence. “I’m ready,” he said softly. “I like being stretched, so you don’t have to worry.”

Ryan groaned and pressed him onto his back. “You’re going to finish this before it starts if you keep saying things like that,” he ground out, and Stephen laughed in delight, allowing Ryan to take the lead again.

He closed his eyes as Ryan slid between his legs, and moaned softly as the hot hardness breached him. It felt so good. He was still sensitised from their prior exertions, and the feeling of being stretched as Ryan’s strong body pressed against him was almost too much. 

Stephen wondered for a second just what he was getting himself into, allowing this man to get so close, to touch him more than physically. Then the blunt head brushed against his prostate and he stopped thinking completely, his body taking over and reaching for fulfilment, making him cry out again and again as thrust after well-aimed thrust filled him and raked that little bundle of nerves inside him with just enough pressure to drive him out of his mind. He opened his eyes again as he came close to the edge, looking at Ryan’s face, seeing the open feeling there, knowing he was showing the same thing. Ryan’s face twisted a little, and he dropped his head to Stephen’s shoulder as his hips started stuttering slightly, pressure increasing, pumping becoming ragged and pounding on his prostate harder each moment. Finally, Stephen gave in as his second orgasm took him, more powerful even than the first. Feeling himself tightening, feeling Ryan’s cock being squeezed, feeling it harden even more for a second as the warmth filled him and they both collapsed, he was almost unable to breathe in the aftermath.

Stephen came back to earth, wondering for a moment what the fuck had just happened, before feeling the panting body covering his own. “Oh,” he gasped. “Wow.” He shook his head to try to realign his thoughts after that shattering climax.

Ryan raised a head that looked as if it weighed a tonne, and grunted at him. Stephen managed a chuckle and turned them gently onto their sides. He leaned forward and kissed Ryan softly. “I’ll get a flannel. Lie still and rest.”

Ryan grunted again, managing to open his eyes for a second this time. Stephen’s chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh as he stripped off their condoms and staggered on legs like wet noodles into the bathroom for disposal and cleanup materials. 

After cleaning them up, Stephen snuggled back down into Ryan’s arms for the time left in their assignation, loving the feeling of being held close. He yawned and fought the urge to sleep, wanting to remember every second of this time, hoping that Ryan felt the same way he did.

He was still drifting on a cloud of memory when the timer buzzed. Dropping his head back onto the pillow, he grumbled, “Crap,” and forced his body to roll out of bed. 

Ryan’s chuckle and the sound of him standing up brought Stephen back to earth. He moved around the end of the bed and assisted Ryan in re-donning his clothes, making sure he was tidy and clean for duty. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Ryan’s eyes widened.

“I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you,” the security chief replied. Leaning forward, giving plenty of warning, he kissed Stephen one last time and walked out, clearly ignorant of the fact that he was taking Stephen’s heart with him. 

That last hesitation, that show of respect for what Stephen might want from him, had been the final straw. Stephen dropped down hard onto his bed and his eyes filled as he wondered just what the fuck he was supposed to do now. For the first time in his life, he was in love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen is in love; Lester finds a way to keep him productive.

James Lester frowned at the report in front of him. After almost impossibly astronomical customer satisfaction ratings in the last three months of the prior year and the first month of this year, Stephen Hart had dropped back to simply excellent for the rest of this first quarter. Something was wrong. Thinking back over the last few weeks, trying to work out what might have changed, he glanced out through the open curtains of his office window into the client waiting area just in time to watch an unexpected scene play out. 

Tom Ryan was standing beside the small fountain, having an intense discussion with Jon Lyle, his leader for the evening shift. Whatever they were discussing required a considerable amount of arm-waving on the part of the shift leader along with some rather creative facial expressions, from what Lester could see at this angle. Ryan was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips tight, quite obviously attempting to hold in his amusement at his second’s antics. The clients in the area, on the other hand, were showing no such restraint. They were laughing openly. 

Then Stephen Hart appeared at the far end of Corridor A, walking toward them, heading for his room at the front. He was looking at Ryan, and Lester almost lost his grasp on his pen at the naked pain that appeared on Hart’s face when Ryan apparently noticed Hart and deliberately turned his face away. Hart almost stumbled, then his shoulders drooped, just a fraction, and he quietly entered his room. Damn. It seemed as though there might be a simple, and annoying, explanation for the ratings drop. Wondering if he had time to investigate further right now, Lester checked the schedule, but Hart was fully booked for the entire night. In fact, the whore was cutting his timing very close for managing to be prepared in time for his first client. 

Making a note to find out just what the hell was going on between the two of them, Lester shut down his computer and headed for his shower and fresh clothing. He was meeting friends for the opera, and since he couldn't fix the problem immediately he was not going to let anything get in the way of his night out. Whatever problems the two men were having hadn’t affected their efficiency badly enough to consider the situation an emergency, so it could wait until all of them had a night’s, or in Stephen’s case morning’s, sleep under their belts. Lester especially wanted to be rested, since handling the emotional entanglements of others was not exactly his forte.

xXx

Ryan almost lost the thread of what Lyle was blethering on about when he saw Stephen in the hallway. The hours he had spent in quiet talks with the whore over the last few months had brightened his life more than he’d even realised until the annual ‘reward’ time with Stephen had finally and utterly destroyed him for anyone else. Now he was completely at a loss. He had no idea what to do about the situation. For the first time in his life, he was wanting more than just a one night stand or a casual friends with benefits relationship. 

And that scared the crap out of him for more than just the fact that he would actually be happy with some sort of commitment. Stephen was a whore, he was Indentured, he wasn’t free to be with anyone. He was owned by Ryan’s boss, for fuck’s sake. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that they would be able to manage an exclusive relationship, even if by some miracle Lester didn’t throw Ryan out on his ear for daring to fall for his highest-rated, longest-lasting, and most lucrative commodity. And Ryan certainly couldn’t afford to buy Stephen’s contract from Lester; the price would be astronomical. And that didn’t even count the minor little fact that Lester would never fucking sell Stephen, anyway. 

“Hey, boss, you still in there? Somewhere? Anywhere?” Lyle’s fingers snapping in front of his nose made Ryan jump.

“Don’t fucking do that.” Ryan shook his head as the client closest to him chuckled. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a quick nod at the man. “It’s being one of those days, and this gentleman isn’t helping.” Turning to Lyle, he placed an arm over his shoulder and steered him gently away from the waiting area, through the open door at the corner and down the empty corridor toward the canteen. “How many times have I told you not to put your finger in my face?” he asked, using his best ‘I am the boss’ manner.

Unfortunately, it had not the slightest effect on Lyle, who was made of much sterner stuff than would buckle at a mere tone of voice. “Enough times to know it’s not going to work,” Lyle replied with a grin, patting him on the back. “Now, tell Uncle Jon what’s wrong. And just why the most gorgeous whore in the entire fucking place gets a look on his face like someone stole his favourite teddy bear when he catches sight of you.”

Ryan stopped in his tracks and stared. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lyle said, giving Ryan a cockeyed look. “You're giving the poor guy a bellyache, from the looks of things. What's going on?”

Ryan glanced around quickly, and not seeing anyone in earshot, leaned back against the wall with a sigh. “I'm fucked, Jon,” he said sadly, thumping his head softly against the plaster. “Completely and utterly fucked.”

Lyle grinned at him and quipped, “Nah, I think that was last month, you lucky bastard. You know how many people were hoping you'd choose someone else so they might have a chance that they’d be assigned the lovely Stephen for their prize?”

Ryan was suddenly furious and had to quickly throttle back on the anger before he punched his friend. Even though he knew Lyle meant no harm, hearing those words made him want to lash out. But, damn it, it was true. Stephen was popular; everyone wanted him. And Ryan realised that was one of the reasons this thing between them would never work. Even though Ryan was willing, even wanting, to be exclusive as he had never before been in his rambling life, Stephen had no such choice and no such inclination. His high libido was one of the things that made him the best at what he was, and there was no way Ryan alone could satisfy him.

Deliberately loosening his jaw, Ryan opened the eyes he’d closed as his temper flared. Lyle was staring at him as if he’d grown an extra head, or at the very least a pair of horns. 

“Damn, you do have it bad,” Lyle whispered. “And that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

Ryan nodded sadly. “Yeah. That’s the problem. All these years, and when I finally bloody well fall in love, it has to be with him.”

“Hmph,” Lyle remarked lucidly. “So, now what, boss?”

“I haven’t the faintest fucking idea,” Ryan replied wearily, rubbing his face with his hands in the hope that he might scrape loose an idea or two. “I just don’t know.”

“Have you talked to him?” Lyle asked, his tone implying that he would rather eat fried grasshoppers than talk about feelings.

“What do you think?” Ryan shot back. “We’re not exactly prime material for lasting relationships, Jon. Or any good at opening up like - like -”

“Like girls?” Lyle repeated the cockeyed look he’d given Ryan earlier, with added lip twist. “Shit, you should know better than that by now. We’re not Forces any more. We can live our lives without the kind of restrictions military service put on us.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed sadly. “We can. He can’t.”

“Ah.” That stopped Lyle in his tracks. “Bollocks. You’re right. You’re fucked.” When Ryan growled at him, Lyle shrugged. “Nothing you can do about that except enjoy what you have while you have it.”

Ryan sighed unhappily. Trust Lyle to aim straight for the heart of the matter. “You’re saying to ignore that I’m free and he’s Indentured, ignore that I work for the man who owns him, ignore that I’m fucking in love with him and he’s - I don’t know how he feels. Shit.”

Lyle’s expression had melted from the pity it was showing at the beginning of the rant into slight disgust by the end. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” he stated. “Or you’ve gone fucking deaf. I told you what he looked like when you turned away. He’s hurting, boss. Hurting badly. I think he’s as much in love with you as you are with him.”

“I don’t - ah, hell.” Ryan’s shoulders drooped as he leaned back against the wall again. 

“One question.”

“Ask it,” Ryan shrugged. He was at his wit’s end and at this point he’d take anything that might even masquerade as a lifeline out of this morass he’d managed to stumble into.

“If he were a scientist, or a trade apprentice, would you be freaking like this?”

About to verbally blast his friend into next week, Ryan stopped and did him the courtesy of actually thinking about the question before he shot off his mouth. And the result of those thoughts both saddened and annoyed him.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he admitted. “It’s the atavistic ‘you’re mine and I’m yours’ thing, isn’t it?”

Lyle grinned at him, looking like he was thinking about patting Ryan on the head, if he didn’t know he’d pull back a bloody stump if he tried. “Yep. So, since sex is just part of his job description, why are you jumping around the subject like a pea on a hotplate? If he were a carpenter, you wouldn’t refuse to let him build someone else a bookcase.”

Ryan nodded, thinking hard. “Okay. I get what you’re saying. On that subject. And I think I can force myself past the exclusivity issue. The other matter is still a problem. Lester owns him. Lester employs me.”

“You could always switch to working in the kitchen. They’re independent contractors.” Lyle grinned at him, clearly joking. “Then I could have your job.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said drily. “Your empathy and helpfulness warm the cockles of my heart.”

Lyle patted his arm. “I get it, I really do. That part is a little more tricky. Give Uncle Jon a few days to work on it, and I’ll see if I can come up with something.”

Ryan nodded. Lyle might be infuriating sometimes, but both his head and his heart were in the right place. If anyone could figure a way out of this situation, it would be him. 

Then Ryan shuddered internally, remembering the dangerous creativity of some of Lyle’s previous plans. Those plans did tend to blow up in their faces, at least before the shrapnel rained down around them and everything ended up working out for the best, anyway. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. 

“You have a week,” he said.

“And then what?” Lyle asked. “What’s your Plan B?”

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed. “For the first time in my life, I run. I’ll find a job elsewhere, get away from this place and him. Clean break.”

“Fuck that!” Lyle moved in close, suddenly serious. “Plan B sucks. And you’re not going to use it, damn it. We didn’t follow you to this place just to have you cut and run out on us.”

Ryan’s eyes flew open in shock at the tone, one he’d never heard from his second before. Then it hit him, how much his men were relying on him in their transition from military to civilian life. This was about more than just him, more than just him and Stephen. This was about him, Stephen, Lyle, Owen, and Richards. It was all of them.

“Okay,” he whispered, reaching out to grip Lyle’s shoulder. “Okay. I get it. We’ll work something out, even if I have to throw myself on Lester’s mercy.”

Lyle shuddered theatrically. “He has mercy? I’ve never seen any trace of it.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, he does. You have to dig deep to find it, since he hides it very, very well. But he does. Thanks, mate.” Scrubbing his head, he turned away. “Time for lunch. That is, if you can still eat after thinking about Lester and emotions collectively.”

Lyle moved up beside him and chuckled as they entered the canteen. “I can always eat, you know that.”

xXx

Stephen looked up from his magazine at the knock on his door, surprised that it hadn’t simply slid aside to allow the entry of whoever was there. Suddenly nervous, he sat up on the couch and set aside this month’s Psychology Today without even marking his place. 

When he called, “Come in,” and the door opened to show Finn standing alone in the entry, Stephen’s eyes widened. No client, no patient, just Finn. He swallowed. That was even less encouraging. The supportive look on Finn’s face somehow didn’t manage to make him feel any better.

“Sir James would like to see you,” Finn said quietly, then he smiled. “You’re not in trouble, Stephen, it’s all right.”

Gulping a little in spite of Finn’s reassurances, Stephen followed the owner’s assistant across the client waiting area and through the double doors on the left beside the reception desk, passing first across Lester’s lounge area then to his office. Finn tapped on the door and when Lester called, “Enter”, he gestured for Stephen to go in.

Eyes wide, Stephen walked through and stopped dead right in front of the entrance, looking around Lester’s office almost in awe. He’d seen it from the outside many times through the vertical blinds covering the massive window along the atrium wall, but in all his years at the A-R-C, he’d never actually been inside this room.

“Sit down, Stephen,” Lester said quietly, pressing a button on his desk to close the blinds for privacy. 

Stephen watched as the view to the client lounge area was closed off, only slightly comforted. He knew that Lester had never been an advocate of rubbing in the fact that he owned his whores, even though they both knew the score: Stephen was property. Gathering himself, he hastened across the room and sank into the chair directly in front of Lester's desk. Straight-backed, hands folded in his lap and head and gaze tilted very slightly down in the approved manner, he waited for whatever his owner desired. Lester's next words surprised him into raising his head, eyes wide in anxiety.

“What, exactly, are your feelings toward the A-R-C's Head of Security?” Lester’s tone was even, but inexorable.

Stephen was appalled. Had he been that obvious? Whores had to be level headed at all times. How the hell had he come to this point, where he was so stupid as to let himself openly show favouritism to someone, anyone? Whores couldn't do that, not if they wanted to remain useful. He couldn't do that, not if he wanted to live. If he let himself care, if he stopped being profitable, he'd end up being sold into someone’s private household as nothing more than a body-servant, or worse, cast off as useless into the mines. And everyone knew what happened to ex-whores in the mines. Mind spinning out of control, he swallowed hard, fear and self-loathing fighting for supremacy, knowing that he was showing every bit of what he was feeling but unable to hide it. 

“I - I,” he stuttered, hands tightening on the arms of the chair. What a time for his legendary cool to desert him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to try to wrest back some self-command, but before he could manage to settle himself, Lester spoke again, more softly, but no less dangerously.

“The truth, Stephen, that’s all I want.”

Eyes blurring with unshed tears, Stephen dropped to his knees between his chair and Lester’s desk. There was no escape now. Having been ordered to give the truth, he must obey. Arms tight around his stomach, head hanging, he whispered the words that he knew would bring disaster upon him. “I love him, master.” Having spoken, he settled back onto his heels and awaited whatever punishment Lester would deem appropriate for his transgression.

“I see.” Lester’s voice was still even, but there was something in it that Stephen couldn’t put a name to. It wasn’t quite amusement, not nearly anger, not even puzzlement.

Stephen swallowed, his throat so tight he couldn’t have spoken again if he’d been given permission. Shaking, he raised his head just enough to be able to see Lester from under his lashes, for the first time completely unaware of how enticing he looked to the other man.

“And what do you think should be done about it?” Now Lester’s tone did have amusement running through it.

Stephen’s head came up and he stared. “Master?” he whispered, completely devastated. “I don’t understand. I’ve broken the first rule. Are you asking me to decide what punishment I should receive?” His shaking turned to shuddering so hard he could barely stay upright. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see Lester’s face. This was awful. That his owner would find pleasure in making Stephen choose his own sentence was making him feel sick. He’d never thought Lester would be so severe.

Gentle fingers on his chin made him gasp and open his eyes again. Lester - his owner - was beside Stephen, on his knee beside his whore, reaching out.

“No, Stephen, there will be no punishment.” Lester spoke softly but firmly. “I’m sorry. This is a serious situation, and I should not have made a joke about it.”

Stephen thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Lester was apologising to him? He almost looked around to see if somehow he’d ended up in some other world. Owners didn’t apologise to Indentured. Ever. 

“Sit,” Lester added, helping him back into his chair before moving back to his own seat. “I ask, because according to these reports,” he indicated the stack of papers on his desk, “your ratings were astronomical from the time I hired Ryan until the day you were his reward for his superb work.” 

Stephen was almost mesmerised as Lester leaned forward, stared straight into his eyes and asked, “Did something happen that day?”

“I - yes,” Stephen replied shakily, finally finding his voice but still quivering slightly in reaction. “He was - he showed - an amazing amount of respect.” He glanced down, idly watching his fingers twining together in his lap for a moment, finally stilling them with an effort when he noticed how much he was giving away. “When he left, I realised that he was - that I,” he shook his head in frustration at his inability to be coherent and rubbed his forehead to try to stifle a threatening headache. “Getting to know him was wonderful. We talked, we exercised together, we talked more.” He grinned fleetingly. “It was nice to get to know someone without having the sexual aspect making things difficult. Sometimes people can’t put that aside once they bed each other and it causes confusion.” Shaking his head to bring himself back on track, he continued, “But never mind that. I found myself looking forward to seeing him, and missing him on his days off. It was a nice feeling. It gave me something to look forward to. Then he chose me for his reward, and I was very happy.”

Lester raised an eyebrow, and Stephen grimaced. “Okay, I was thrilled. It was a wonderful two hours, and when he left, I knew I was in love. But then, something happened. He didn’t want to talk to me any more. He avoided me when I was working out, he wasn’t in the canteen when I ate, and then yesterday. . .” He couldn’t continue; that memory was simply too painful to relive so quickly.

“I understand,” Lester replied. “I saw it happen.”

Stephen couldn’t help it, he gaped at him. “You saw?”

Lester’s lips quirked in a tightly controlled grin. “I saw. Right after I read the monthly reports showing your decline in ratings.”

Stephen winced. “I’m very sorry, master, I’ll do better, I promise.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Lester asked sardonically. “You of all people know that you can’t throttle down feelings that have come to the surface. You’ll drown in them.”

Nibbling his lip, trying to think, Stephen couldn’t come up with any answer that enabled both him and Ryan to remain at the A-R-C. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered, drooping again. 

“I do,” Lester replied briskly. “I’m going to talk to Ryan.”

Stephen’s head came up so fast he almost cricked his neck. “About me?” he squeaked, then blushed red at the sound, which Lester, luckily, ignored.

“Yes. I’m going to see if he’s willing to share you with your duties. If he is, I will put no impediment in your way to having any sort of relationship you wish.”

“You - we,” Stephen was stuttering again, this time feeling his face break into an involuntary smile so wide that his jaw was hurting.

“Out,” Lester ordered, pointing to the door. “I won’t guarantee anything, since this action is unprecedented and completely experimental, and I want you to make yourself scarce until I call you. Back to your room, right now. And tell Finn I want him.”

Having gone from devastation to ecstasy in a matter of minutes, Stephen wasn’t sure he didn’t break the sound barrier in his haste to follow those orders.

xXx

Ryan received Finn’s request to meet with Lester stoically. He had a nasty feeling that he knew what it was going to be about, but since he’d never turned away from a battle in his life, he simply wrapped himself in a mantle of calm and followed the young man into his employer’s office.

What he didn’t expect was Lester’s first words, spoken in a voice that could have cut diamonds.

“I never thought you would be the type to despise a whore for the performance of his required duties - especially since you’ve taken advantage of them yourself. Are you such a hypocrite?” Not even inviting him to sit, the owner was staring at him, face twisted into a sneer. 

Ryan wondered what the fuck was happening. “Um, no, sir?” he managed, automatically standing at attention, eyes straight ahead.

Lester’s snort brought his gaze back to his employer. “For the love of god, Ryan, come over here and sit down. You’ve caused one hell of a problem, and now you’re going to fix it.”

Still completely at sea, Ryan walked across the room and collapsed into the chair. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked plaintively.

“Stephen’s in love with you,” Lester said with no more preamble. “And according to Finn - who thinks you’re also in love with Stephen - you need to get your head out of your arse and let the poor man know.” He relaxed, tapping his pen on his blotter. “So, are you? In love with my top whore?”

Ryan winced. Crap. This was his worst nightmare come to pass. Lyle had run out of planning time before he even started, and now Ryan was about to find out if he was even going to have a job as of tomorrow. Taking a deep breath, he looked Lester straight in the eyes and ground out, “Yes. I’m in love with your top whore.” Letting the rest of his air out in one long sigh, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Do I pack my things?”

“Why ever would you want to do that?” Lester asked, with a palpably faux expression of confusion on his face.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would. Lester wasn’t going ballistic, he didn’t even seem to be upset. “Sir?” Ryan said, “Would you please be direct?” 

Lester smiled. “As you wish, Ryan.” He leant back and pressed the tips of his fingers together under his chin. “Your relationship with Stephen, whilst it was ongoing, made him very happy.” His smile turned rather sardonic. “And a very happy Stephen is an extremely lucrative Stephen. Now that you’ve dropped him, he’s not happy any more. And a not-so-happy Stephen is simply lucrative, rather than extremely lucrative. Do you see my point?”

“Are you saying you have no objection to us?” Ryan asked, almost unable to believe that, once again, Lester was going to hand him on a platter exactly what he wanted.

“None whatsoever,” Lester replied, then grimaced. “With the proviso that you are actually able to handle the reality of his occupation. Relationships between Indentured and Free are always fraught with potential landmines. I don’t want him made any more unhappy than he is right now. If you can’t live with it, you will have to go, since I will not lose him.”

Ryan wondered whether it was possible to explode from happiness. He squeezed the arms of his chair to stop himself from leaping to his feet. “I’ve been thinking about that. A lot. And I can live with it. Believe me, Sir James, I can live with it.”

“Excellent,” Lester said. “Now, get the hell out of here and spend some time with your boyfriend.” He glanced at the calendar on his computer screen. “You have two hours, then he has clients for the rest of the evening. Go and prove that you can make this work.”

Ryan almost stumbled over his own feet as he made his way without thinking out of Lester’s office, past the grinning Finn at the reception desk, across the waiting area and to the first room on the right of corridor A. He stopped at Stephen’s door and knocked. When the door opened and he saw Stephen’s hopeful face, he stepped through and pulled his lover into a close embrace. “I love you,” he whispered into the ear next to his mouth, and when Stephen almost sobbed his next breath, Ryan kissed him. “We have two hours. For us to make a start.”

“Together?” Stephen asked, almost breathlessly, holding Ryan away with a strength the ex-soldier didn’t expect.

“Together,” Ryan agreed, and the cobalt eyes closed as their mouths met.

xXx

Two hours later, Ryan exited Stephen’s room, and as they said goodbye at the door, both of the men looked content. 

Sir James Lester watched them through his office window and smiled grimly as he placed the Contest rules back into their folder, dropped the folder into his bottom drawer and locked it. Only a little over two years to go; and Stephen Hart was now back on track to make him £5,000,000 richer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diagram of the ARC

The ARC in the Slave!Stephen AU


End file.
